The obvious members we are missing, and not just in a physical sense, are Titus and Lucien.
The other member missing is Boral because while he is fully on the team, he’s so disliked by everyone he wasn’t invited. I don’t spend too much time stressing over that being rude, though, because Boral probably wouldn’t have come. He’s been taking his role in providing crucial information on Kymaris to us very seriously and has remained by Kaesar’s side.
Boral had even mentioned they’d been bonding over old memories and good times, and I was afraid it had meant they were engaging in Boral’s favorite past time of mayhem and murder. I try not to think about it though, and instead focus on the good right here in this kitchen.
Zaid pulls out the piece de resistance—a huge pitcher of margaritas—and starts filling salt-rimmed glasses as he orders, “Dig in.”
For the next few minutes, there’s no conversation. No bowls are passed either, each of us leaning forward, left and right, to reach the various fixings to assemble our fajitas. I perch on my stool, standing and stretching Maddox’s way, trying to ignore Carrick when he slips his hand in between my legs at my calf and starts a slow slide up.
Fortunately, no one can see. When his hand reaches my actual knee, I slam them shut and sit back down. Pulling his hand free, he laughs and steals a chicken fajita off my plate.
I turn down a proffered margarita from Zaid. After dinner tonight, Carrick has promised he’ll let me reach out to Zora and I want to be clear-headed.
When the plates are loaded, conversation kicks back up in between bites of food. The clear runner for best conversation of topic is the wedding since Rainey and I chatter on about it and they have no choice but to listen. Tomorrow we have a full day planned of dress shopping, cake tasting, and a fancy lunch down near the water.
Carrick remains conspicuously quiet about his wedding duties, but Maddox can’t resist teasing Myles a little. “Dude… why bother buying when you’re already getting the goods for free?”
There was a time when Myles would get mad or offended by such a thing, particularly from Maddox, who to this day still shamelessly flirts with Rainey. But the Myles sitting with a half-eaten fajita in his hand merely shakes his head with a knowing smile. “I’d try to explain it to you, but you’d never understand it… dude.”
Me and Rainey turn our heads toward each other, smiling at the little slap down to Maddox that was loaded with a lot of love for my bestie.
“But I think there’s someone who understands,” Myles continues, then leans forward on his stool to look past Rainey and me to Carrick.
Carrick, as sexy as he can be in any situation, is bent over his plate, mouth wide open and about to take a huge bite of the chicken fajita he stole from me.
Everyone is silent, which causes Carrick to lift his head and glance around, eyes finally landing on Myles, who was the last that spoke, his insinuation—which would be accurate—being that Carrick would understand about that type of love.
But I can tell Carrick was only half paying attention. It’s not often I see the big guy slightly embarrassed before he admits, “Sorry… what did you say?”
“You’re someone who understands about love and committing to one woman,” Myles says.
Not taking away from his manliness at all, Carrick’s smile actually goes a little soft, his gaze flicking to mine. “Yeah… I do.”
Thinking that was the end of a brief but sweet conversation about true love, Carrick turns his attention back to his fajita.
But Myles isn’t done apparently. “As such,” he drawls, waiting for Carrick to look at him again. “I would like to formally request that you be my best man at the wedding, not only because it makes sense since Finley is the maid of honor, but also because you are understanding and I would like you by my side.”
Holy cow. I’m not prepared for the emotion that overwhelms me that Myles would select Carrick because he admires—of all things—his heart.
Carrick is clearly stunned as evidenced by the few scant seconds he doesn’t say anything before finally saying in a gruff voice, “Yeah… man. I’d be glad to stand up there with you.”
“Aww.” I lean over and loop my arm into Carrick’s, causing him to lose purchase on the fajita. It lands on his plate, but I ignore it, leaning my head on his shoulder and patting his chest. “You’re the sweetest ever.”
“Whatever,” Carrick mutters, pulling free so he can piece his fajita back together. “I know Myles was just waiting to ask me when all of you were around so I couldn’t decline.”
“That’s actually a true statement,” Myles admits with a firm nod of his head. Then he grins at Carrick. “But I actually do want you to be the one up there with me.”
This devolves into Maddox teasing Carrick about tuxedo shopping and an offering to throw a bachelor party, to which Rainey and I both exclaim, “No!”
Myles asks Maddox just for posterity, “What exactly did you have in mind for a bachelor party?”
Maddox claps Myles on the shoulder—a little too hard, which causes his fajita to go tumbling to his plate—and winks. “Ever see the movie The Hangover?”
This devolves into a weird bonding moment between Maddox and Myles, who apparently both rate The Hangover in one of their top three films, which actually makes me a bit embarrassed to admit they’re my friends.
My phone starts ringing, and I glance down to see Boral’s name and number on my screen. He’d taken to contacting me with any information because, in his words, “I’m the nicest to talk to.”
Not that politeness matters to a Dark Fae who includes rape, pillaging, and serial killing in his list of hobbies, but I get what he’s saying.
I’m the only one giving him a true chance.
“Hold up, guys,” I say above Maddox cackling over something Myles says. “It’s Boral, and he probably has an update.”
It immediately goes silent and I connect the call, putting it on speakerphone. “Hey… you’re on speaker and everyone is here.”
It’s a subtle warning to not say anything he doesn’t want any of the others to hear. Not that he would hide information about the prophecy from them, but he might go off on how much disdain he has for Carrick or how much he longs for a chance with his son, which would be totally awkward for everyone.
“Good,” Boral replies. “I’ve got some important stuff for you to hear.”
I rest the phone on the center of the island as my eyes lift to Zaid’s, which hold the usual amount of suspicion against his father within them. Everyone hunches in a bit closer to listen.
And just like that, our family gathering where we were celebrating food and true love turns to business.
“I’ve got some news on the twelfth front,” he says, referring to the twelfth Dark Fae original that Kymaris has been trying to add to her collection for the ritual. “She can’t find a twelfth, despite trying the same summoning ritual that you had witnessed her doing and sending her daemons out all over the world.”
“Why isn’t it working?” I ask, intrigued by the possibility she’s getting weaker somehow.
“Word is out among our kind that she summoned Dark Fae to her by killing offspring. For those who sired daemons, it’s not sitting well she’s murdering children. For those without, it’s not sitting well she’s killing to force the original fallen back to her side. You have to remember, most Dark Fae who have escaped the Underworld don’t want anything to do with the possibility of going back or helping Kymaris. She wasn’t exactly a benevolent ruler. My assumption is that they’ve gone into deep hiding, possibly in other realms, or they’ve got some solid protection spells in place she can’t break. Regardless, she’s been frustrated.”